Spicy Books Pages Novels & Stories

The pages smelled of new paper and ink, but there was something more there — an earthy, ancestral odor that seemed to emanate from the knowledge contained in the words. I flipped through the chapters, the rituals, the recipes. Nothing seemed real. Nothing seemed right. They were vague words, obscure metaphors, warnings that confused more than they explained. My head hurt, my eyes burned, but I kept turning pages, looking for something — anything — that would give me direction. And then, on page 147, I found it.

In the back of the room, someone guffawed. "Jane?" "I read A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens. It has 422 pages." Jane tried to say it in a matter-of-fact tone, but she couldn't keep the glee out of her voice. Then she read her page. Like Emily's, it told mainly what the book was about. But the plot of the A Tale of Two Cities was so complicated that it was that easy to summarize in a page.

A former lodger in the room? I picked up the book, happy that I had found something to do, and lay on the bed, flipping through it. It seemed like a normal college romance, but I quickly found out that it wasn't so. If anything, it was extremely spicy, and I glanced at the cover again, innocent, but its contents were not. I continued reading through, intrigued by the way the characters were portrayed and the more spicy scenes I read, the more strange I felt. Was I getting... Wet?

The book had an entire thirty-page chapter on soul resurrection but not soul fetching. Slightly annoyed, Levy started to look through the books again and this time much more carefully as she stared at each page until she was sure that she wasn’t missing anything finally she found what exactly was wrong at the end of the third book. “ Someone tore pages from this book,” murmured Levy as she ran her fingers through the rough yet very clean edge of the torn page. Whoever tore the pages of the book, did it very carefully… in fact, they did it so cleanly that Levy would’ve never found what was wrong with the book unless she carefully skimmed through each page.

For just a second the pain stopped. I quickly opened up the book to a random page once the aching in my chest started back up. The first page I set eyes on didn't even have a fighting chance. I stabbed it and tore though it not even giving anyone a chance to react. Slowly the page started to catch on fire and ash instantly formed. Once the page completely turned to ash I lifted up the book and brushed off the pieces that use to be the page. A siren started inside the room and multiple screens filled the walls. I spun around going through all universes and landed on the universe I knew it was reporting on.

Lila’s POV The university’s bell has finally rang after waiting for almost two hours for this boring subject. I never liked math. For me, that was the most boring subject ever. Numbers, after numbers, and then numbers again. Tsk tsk. All I want to learn is cocks and cocks and dick. Smirking at my own thoughts, I took all my things and immediately left our room. The next subject is my favorite one. Not because I actually love the subject, but because our Prof is so hot I want to bed him even for a night.

I smiled faintly. Oops. I tapped my pen lightly against my notebook, pretending to read the lines in front of me. But my mind? Still wandering. Imagining him standing closer. Imagining what would happen if that calm expression cracked even a little as my cunt kept dripping. “Gosh, how can a man be so hot and yet stubborn… just take me already, professor.” “Try focusing on the actual text,” Jeff said again. “Right,” I murmured. I flipped the page of my notebook, leaning down to grab my textbook from the door beside my chair.

The dining room table is covered in baby name books. Spadino bought them. He bought all of them. 1001 Names for Boys. The Book of Saints. Ancient Roman Heroes. They are stacked in teetering piles next to the bread basket. "Maximum," Spadino says. He is holding a book open, pointing to a page with a breadstick. "No," Aureliano says. He is cutting his steak with surgical precision. "It sounds like a gladiator."

But something about its presence, the way it was there without explanation, paralyzed me. I bent down to pick it up. My fingers met the paper, smooth and cold. I turned it over for a long time before opening it, weighing it, feeling it, trying to guess its contents by touch alone. There was something about this paper, this black ink, that sent a chill down my spine. And heat elsewhere. Very hot. A wave of heat in the pit of my stomach, inexplicable, inappropriate.

Author's Note: Guys, guess what... DIRTY PAGES is officially on 1k views!!! Thank you so, so much, guys. Hitting 1,000 views on my very first book means more to me than you could ever imagine. I was literally awake last night, watching that 996 view count like my life depended on it – refreshing, pacing, hoping – and when it finally flipped to 1.0k, I swear my heart did a whole somersault.